


Kilt

by Zoe Rayne (MontanaHarper)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-26
Updated: 2005-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/Zoe%20Rayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>John made a mental note to never, ever make a bet with Carson again. Never.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zortified (james)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/gifts).



> Because James wanted it.

As he walked down the corridor, eyes straight ahead and taking great care not to focus on faces, John made a mental note to never, ever make a bet with Carson again. Never.

"John?" Elizabeth's voice had more than a hint of laughter in it.

He turned to face her, closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath. "Yes, ma'am?" he said, letting his body automatically come to attention, because that was easier than thinking about how he should stand while wearing a skirt. Kilt. Whatever.

"I'm asking all department heads to meet in the conference room in an hour," she said, and he stared over her right shoulder, trying to pretend he didn't see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Ma'am," he acknowledged, desperately ignoring the fact that Rodney had just leaned out of the doorway beside Elizabeth and looked like he was going to say something. Knowing Rodney it would be something scathing and John would die of embarrassment right here, his face as red as the kilt's plaid. Tartan. Whatever.

Thankfully, Rodney was silent, though his gaze did travel over John from head to foot and then back again, and the appraising look was almost as bad as the sarcasm would've been. Maybe worse, actually.

Elizabeth nodded, still gamely keeping her amusement in check. "Dismissed, Major."

He spun back around—too quickly, he knew, but he couldn't help it—and continued down the corridor toward the control room, wanting nothing more than to fulfill the terms of the forfeit and get back to his quarters and into a decent pair of pants.


End file.
